


Warrior's Pride

by MediocreMemory



Series: Blades and Staves [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreMemory/pseuds/MediocreMemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of <a href="http://vampy6667.deviantart.com/">Vampy6667</a>'s special Hawke. Fenris visits after Garrett receives an injury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior's Pride

Fenris entered the foyer- his gaze tilted to the floor. Bodhan’s greeting was tinged with a pain he had not grown accustomed to. Since the accident… he tried to shake the incident from mind but it refused to leave. He stepped lightly across the thick rug. The usual comfort he found in the soft give of it was missing as he moved through the main room and towards the stairs. He heard a shouting from the room above. That damned room he had spent an evening in so long ago… or had it been so long since then? A year. A long year.

The weight he felt as he climbed up, each step feeling heavier than the last, was almost unbearable. He winced at the sound of his steel gauntlets on the knob. He was already in a bad place to be visiting Garrett after the last time he had come by. Was it truly wise to see him now?

As the door opened, Leandra stormed out- shaking her head in disgust. A quick glance towards the elf but nothing more. Did she even know what had happened between the two before? Fenris’ back tightened as he viewed Garrett hunched over the side of his bed. The glass of a bottle busted before the fire and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. ‘A page from my book, I see.’ he thought.

The look that Garrett shot was meant to convey anger he could tell but what came across was shame- something he could relate to. He stepped across the room, stopping at the mage’s side.

“What do you want, Fenris?” His voice was shielded in ice just as his look had been. A natural protection he tried to instill. Another factor Fenris could relate on, having used it himself. Garrett had seen through it before and now he could do the same.

He sank into the mattress beside Garrett. The memory of the last time he had done so inched forward in his mind but he drew it back. This was not the time. He was not here to seek his pleasure from a man he found comfort in. He was here to offer that comfort to the same man in a different manner.

They sat in quiet for some time before Garrett spoke. “Well, that’s what I get for sticking my nose into other people’s business.” He gave a weak chuckle and the sadness behind his words could not be masked in any form.

Fenris turned then, looking the mage in the eyes. The lines that stretched across Garrett’s face were not what he had expected from the brutal image he saw them in last. They painted him in a different light though keeping the things he liked most about the man. Loved? He wasn’t sure what the feeling was but he knew it was better than the former restrained anger that he felt. This man had helped calm those so far and continued to try despite his resistance. It was only fitting that he express his same feelings, as he saw it.

His left hand moved to the right, fixing against the buckles as he slid the gauntlet from it. Garrett watched with curiosity before feeling the warm touch of Fenris’ palm against his cheek.

“Eam decet te.” The words from his gruff voice filled Garrett’s ears and though the meaning was lost, he knew they were kind.

Garrett gave a light laugh despite himself. “I’ll assume that was meant to comfort me.”

“It suits you.” Fenris said, pulling his arm back. “In Tevinter, the proudest warriors wear their scars with honor. You would do well to do the same.”

Garrett’s brow furrowed in confusion before looking over Fenris. The lyrium he wore on his skin was his mark of honor and shame. He survived them and now one of the multiple reasons he did not try to hide them- or from them- was evident. He turned to face the fire and as he felt a small tear of sympathy slide down his cheek. Fenris’ hand returned to him- the smell of salt floating past as the warrior’s touch warmed his shoulder.


End file.
